World Without A Joker
by J.P. Martin
Summary: What would Gotham be like without The Joker? Would Bruce Wayne's life be completely different? And was the man under the Red Hood just an out of luck nice guy? Re-imagining of "Batman: The Killing Joke" events. Chapter 2 up, Chapter 3 is coming real soon!
1. Chapter 1

World Without A Joker: A Batman Fan Fiction

World Without A Joker: A Batman Fan Fiction

By Jacob Martin

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman. If I did he wouldn't kick nearly as much ass, because I can't draw with perspective well enough to pull off his action poses.

Chapter 1: History Unmade

He didn't jump in that chemical pit that night. He got caught first. That caped guy you read about in the papers? Nailed him, put his sorry ass in a lockup. The boys who took that red hood off his face just laughed and laughed at the man underneath. Turns out it was the same guy they broke it to that his wife died from a damned bottle heater.

It was so simple. They'd just lock him up like any other criminal. But something about the guy wasn't as hardened or as mean as the cops described him to be. What a joke.

What a joke indeed. But I'm not laughing.

My name is Commissioner Gordon. I was young back then. A certain caped crusader once told me about truth and justice. But would he be the same man, had he just dropped that Red Hood into a chemical bath, leaving him to die?

I suppose not. Sometimes have nightmares, a wild harlequin with green hair and burning eyes haunts my dreams. He looks kind of like the Red Hood guy. Could it be guilt? I wouldn't be surprised if it was. Poor guy. Maybe I should visit him in the jail, to hear his story for once. But if I am, the Batman is coming with me. Just to be safe.

It even surprised me, when I learnt of it. The Red Hood guy? He's not even in prison anymore. Got parole on good behavior. The Batman tells me he's living in an apartment somewhere in the city. I follow him, and I see a broken man changed by a broken life.

The guy screams when he sees the Batman. He remembers him, of course. Every crook does, once they meet him for the first time. Usually they remember the broken bones and snapped fingers first, then the uppercut, then blackness. After that they wake up in a hospital somewhere, and they never forget the beating they took. The Red Hood guy was different. He looked harmless enough, skittish, and timid.

Hard to believe this guy was a crook once.

"Get that man away from me!" he said, cowering and whimpering. "You ruined me!"

"It's Ok, Red Hood" I explained to him. "I'm Commissioner Gordon. I'm not here to hurt you, I just want answers. Why did you try and rob the chemical plant?"

"For the money" said the poor sap, "I had a wife, and a baby on the way, but both of them died. I was desperate, how else was I going to make sure my kid didn't grow up in a slum? Not that I had a choice of opting out once I got the news my wife kicked the bucket. The guys who I was in a gang with, they made me do it even though I had no family to give a future. Now look at me. I'm a mess!"

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance. Had I been older and wiser, I would have. But that's no excuse for being lazy. You have a right to hate me"

"There was something about that night that didn't go the way it was supposed to" said the Batman, coldly, "Ever get the feeling that you've screwed up the course of your entire life with a single stroke of folly?"

"Tell me about it" said the Red Hood guy, with self-depreciation. He was cheering up a little. It was like he was starting to see the humor of the situation. Maybe one bad day _could _change everything. But maybe something was supposed to change, yet it didn't…

"Well, on the bright side, I didn't fall into that chemical tank" he added. "Sometimes I go _crazy_ wondering what would have happened if I did! Isn't that odd?"

Odd indeed. Very odd indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

World Without The Joker: A Batman Fan Fiction

World Without The Joker: A Batman Fan Fiction

By Jacob Martin

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters associated with him, which are owned by DC Comics, yada yada yada.

Just a quick chapter, a dinner scene with Bruce Wayne. The guy who would have become the Joker gets a name, and hints at his immigrant ancestry. Granted, the Joker probably wasn't Polish, but to me, when I read "The Killing Joke" he seemed like he had some kind of European background from his pre-Joker appearance flashbacks.

Chapter 2: His Name Is Jenkins

I got a name out of him. The man I formerly only knew as the Red Hood had a real name, Jenkins Polanski. He looked at me and smiled, telling me of stories of his grandfather, who came to America, fleeing Hitler's expansion.

After that, I decided to take him out for a dinner. Bruce Wayne decided to come with me, to "show Jenkins the ropes" of the local upper crust that dominated Gotham's social scene. That Bruce. Always the charmer.

We got to a ritzy party, pretty young women in fashionable evening dress, Rolls-Royces by the score, did you ever see that movie _Breakfast at Tiffany's_? It was a more upmarket setting for a night of glitz and glamour than that.

"So, Jenkins?" said Bruce. "This sure makes a change from prison food, huh?"

"I feel so out of place here" said Jenkins. "Like I don't belong. Back when my wife was alive I struggled to even get the rent. Tried to be a stand up comedian once, but my situation was no laughing matter"

He chuckled, and smiled, as he sipped champagne with Bruce and I over a conversation.

"Hey Bruce" I said, "Would it kill you to get us some lobster?"

"Anything for my guests" said Bruce. "Ever had lobster before, Jenkins?"

Jenkins turned cold. "I had it… the day my wife died…" he stammered.

"Oh, Jesus" I said, shaking my head. "You should have told us, we don't want to bother you"

"It's fine" said Jenkins. "I wouldn't mind to try lobster again if it's nice… does it come with sauce?"

"All the sauce you want!" I replied. "I'll get Bruce to order you some"

"Thank you"

We sat at the table, when the food arrived on a silver platter. I could see Jenkins's face light up when he tasted it, as if he finally found the simple pleasures of dining in company.

"This is good" he mumbled, with food in his mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full Jenkins, this is a fancy place" laughed Bruce.

He swallowed, and laughed. "Sorry about that. I'm not used to having dinner cooked by chefs"

"Eat it up, Jenkins" I said. "You've got a new life ahead of you. Can't you taste it?"

"I can" said Jenkins. "I wouldn't want to eat here every night though, it would be too expensive. Next time I'll take you to a place where I eat"

"That would be wonderful, Jenkins" said Bruce.

Chapter 3 coming soon! Hope you're enjoying this slightly epic fan-fic. Hopefully Jenkins meets up with Dr. Quinzel in the near future, and Bruce Wayne will most likely struggle with job satisfaction, as he questions his meaning in life with no adversary but nameless thugs to put to justice…


	3. Chapter 3

World Without A Joker Chapter 3

By J.P. Martin

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any associated characters. This work is in the public domain.

Chapter 3: Famous Purple Raincoat

Jenkins walked down the streets in the rain, everything he saw of his old neighbourhood filled him with a chill, possibly the phantoms of the past gripping him tightly by the arm. This was the building where he used to live. This was the building his wife died in. Funnily enough it had been fixed up since last time he saw it, it looked so much older before. He looked at the sign on the door where he used to live: _Dr. Harley Quinzel_: _Psychologist_. Maybe he'd go in and get his head checked.

He opened the door and a cheerful bell rang. "Coming hon!" said a sparkling saccharine voice. He looked the woman in the eyes, she was blonde, and had pigtails. Her round glasses sparkled with a shine that met the shine of her blue eyes. Just like his wife's used to sparkle.

"How can I help you puddin'…" said Dr. Quinzel. "Wow, you look like you've been out in the cold! Let me get you a fresh coat"

Dr. Quinzel handed Jenkins a purple overcoat which was dry. Jenkins shook his head. "I… couldn't wear this. It belonged to somebody I knew who died…"

"I got this from good-will, I suppose it's a woman's coat but for now it will do" said Dr. Quinzel. "What did you say your name was?"

"Jenkins" he said. "My last name doesn't really matter. You couldn't pronounce it anyway"

"That's fine. You say you knew the woman who owned this coat?"

Jenkins sobbed. "My wife's purple coat…" he wept. "Where did you find this?"

"Good Lord, it's you the papers were talking about" said Dr. Quinzel. "I guess you're not as crazy as they said you were, if you're feelin' blue about your wife dyin'"

"You're Dr. Quinzel?" said Jenkins. "How would you like it if I booked an appointment?"


End file.
